


Famine

by cloudyjenn



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 22:42:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6726337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudyjenn/pseuds/cloudyjenn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Fenris leaves Hawke after their one night, Hawke didn't expect him to wear his favor or his crest or keep coming over or keep touching him and Maker be damned, it's driving him to distraction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Famine

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just a fic of Hawke complaining about his love life. Those 3 years where they aren't sleeping together but are still kinda together maybe fascinate me. I like to imagine Hawke moaning to Varric about how Fenris makes him crazy. So I wrote it down. And I hope you enjoy it!

Hawke sat with a heavy sigh across from Varric at the table in his private suite. Varric lifted his eyebrow, but he thought he knew what this was about. Hawke usually bounded into the suite with a cheerful greeting or a sly insult on his lips. Now he looked like he’d lost his mabari.

“You look like you could use a drink, my friend,” Varric said. He didn’t wait for an answer before handing over his mostly full ale to Hawke. “Here, drink this. I’ll be back.”

When Varric returned with two more ales, his first drink was already gone. Damn. It must be really bad.

“Only thing I know that can make a man that down in the mouth,” Varric said as he set another drink in front of Hawke. “You’ve got romantic troubles.”

Varric phrased it as a guess, but he knew Hawke was losing his mind over Fenris. Anyone with eyes in their head knew Hawke was losing his mind over Fenris. Varric liked Fenris more than he thought he would, but he still couldn’t figure how a guy could get that fixated on a spiky narrow-hipped glowing Elf. Not when cute round cheerful dwarven girls existed.

But this wasn’t about Varric’s inability to understand Hawke’s taste. It was about Hawke’s current torment. He’d never gotten the full story because Hawke was surprisingly tight-lipped about their relationship, but as best he and Isabela could piece together from various reports, Hawke and Fenris had spent at least one night together around the time that Vint hag had come after him. And now Fenris wore the Amell family crest at his waist and a red ribbon Varric had never seen before around his wrist.

Yet they didn’t seem to be fucking anymore from what he could tell. So Varric could understand Hawke’s frustration.

“Tell Uncle Varric all about it,” he coaxed.

Hawke took a long swig, swallowed and let out another sigh.

“I don’t know what hurts worse, my dick or my heart,” he finally said.

Varric couldn’t help laughing, but he kept it a soft non-mocking chuckle.

“That’s that worst. If it’s just one or the other-”

“If it was just my dick, I could just visit the Rose,” Hawke growled.

“So why don’t you?” Varric suggested. If nothing else, it might relax their fearless leader and make everyone else’s life slightly better. Judging by the look Hawke gave him, the idea wasn’t appreciated.

“I wouldn’t do that to him. I don’t want to do that to him. I don’t want another person,” Hawke said firmly.

Varric wrinkled his nose. “Okay...I mean I get that, I do. But you aren’t actually...that is. You aren’t together, right?”

“I don’t know!” Hawke threw his hands in the air and leaned so far back in his chair that his head rested on the top rung. “He left me after we had _one_ night together, but he’s wearing my favor. My _favor_. And my family crest. He’s basically telling everyone in the world that he’s mine _except me_.”

“I know this is gonna be a crazy out of this world suggestion, but have you talked to him about this?” Varric asked.

“I did try,” Hawke said peevishly. “He doesn’t want to talk about it. He just wants to prance around in those stupidly tight pants and my favor and torment me.”

Varric figured those pants would be pretty teasing if someone wanted the ass under them. Even Varric could see that Fenris had a shapely bottom for a man. “He’s always worn those pants,” he pointed out.

Hawke scowled. “I know. They’ve been tormenting me for years.”

This time when Varric laughed, he didn’t bother keeping it non-mocking.

“Shut up, dwarf. I’m in pain here.”

Varric only smiled and sipped his drink. Sometimes people needed someone to hush and listen to them. Humans in particular didn’t like long silences and Hawke loathed them. Another reason he didn’t know why Hawke and Fenris liked each other so much. Maybe Fenris was relieved he didn’t have to fill their silences because Hawke talked incessantly.

“I see him a lot,” Hawke eventually said. “Even though it was a bit...y’know, it was strange seeing him after that night, I wanted to make sure we kept up on his reading lessons. He’s doing so well,” he added with so much pride that Varric couldn’t help finding it adorable. When Hawke wasn’t pining so hard it was pathetic, his obvious affection for the Elf was rather sweet.

“Does he act weird to you at all? Or is it like you never...visited his deep roads,” Varric said.

Hawke groaned at the euphemism. “That’s just awful, Varric. And he’s not weird really. Not after the first time when we both didn’t really know how to act. But then it started going okay except…”

When Hawke didn’t keep going for too long, Varric prompted him, “Except…?”

“He keeps touching me! On the hand, on the arm, earlier on the back of my neck...I don’t know if he knows he’s doing it, but he never did it before we slept together and now he does. It’s like he can’t keep his hands to himself and doesn’t even realize it,” Hawke moaned, reaching over to cover his eyes with one hand. “It’s becoming torturous to sit next to him and keep getting more and more wound up. Then the way he looks at him. Like he wants to climb into my lap or kiss my face off or just do _something_ and we’ll be staring for almost two whole minutes without saying anything! It’s making me insane!”

Wow, that was an impressive rant. Who knew Fenris could be such a cocktease? Did the Elf even know? Given how little experience he must have...or at least remember...with relationships, Varric guessed he had no idea. For all he knew, Elves had weird mating issues anyway.

“I can see that, Hawke.”

Hawke looked unexpectedly surprised by Varric’s comment. Oh ancestors, Hawke wasn’t really under the impression that people didn’t know how he felt about Broody...was he?

“You...you can?”

Varric bit his lip to keep from laughing in his face again. Normally he would go ahead and laugh at him, but Varric felt sorry for the poor sop. People thought the Champion’s life must be so wonderful, but no, it was still mostly giant spiders, assholes demanding his time and not getting laid.

“Er, yeah,” Varric confirmed. Then because Hawke deserved to know and because he hoped it might help jumpstart some kind of discussion between Hawke and Fenris, he added, “Pretty much everyone knows you’re ass over head in love with the Elf.”

“Except the Elf,” Hawke growled.

“So...maybe you should tell him,” Varric suggested. Already he was imagining the scene in his head. Oh that’d be the most popular part of his book. The heroic Champion confessing his undying love for the damaged ex-slave who finally realizes his heart isn’t as broken as he once thought…

Hawke was frowning at him. “Stop mentally writing it.” He sighed again and stared at the ceiling. “I know it seems like that easy from the outside, Varric. I love him, he loves me, what’s the problem, right? But you don’t know him the way I do. You don’t know the things he’s gone through. He’s...he’s not _ready_. How can I ask him to go from being owned by someone to attaching himself to me? I know it’s not the same,” he said when he heard Varric start to object. “And Fenris knows that. In his head, but not in his heart. He’s just...he can’t right now.” Varric hated how sad Hawke sounded. Sad for himself perhaps, but Varric thought maybe more for the Elf. “I have to be patient.”

They neither of them spoke for a long time. Varric knew how it felt to be separated from someone you cared for, but it must be infinitely harder when they were _right_ there and marking themselves as yours for the world to see. Before it’d been something of a joke. Poor Hawke with his blue balls and pining looks.  They all hoped that eventually Hawke would get sick of waiting and declare himself to his one true love.  

But Varric's story was wrong. It wasn’t the epic romance of a hero sweeping his love off his feet. It was more gentle. A quiet steady love. Patient and loyal and ever hoping.  Waiting until Fenris came to him ready and willing to give Hawke his heart.  

Not the stuff of best sellers, but probably more likely to last.  At least Varric hoped so. Hawke deserved some happiness after all the shit he’d been through.

“Sounds like you’ve come to a realization,” Varric commented.

“Yeah.” Hawke nodded and sighed once more. “I guess I have. I guess I already did, but sometimes you just...you have to complain.”

“And that’s what I’m here for,” Varric said, raising his cup in a salute. “Maybe if you at least mention the touching thing, he’ll back off.”

Hawke sat up and gave Varric a scandalized look. “Why in Thedas would I ever tell him to _stop_ touching me? Are you insane?”

“Oh suddenly I get it,” Varric said triumphantly. “You _like_ being tormented. No wonder you’re so into the Elf.”

“Maker, how I’d like to be into the Elf,” Hawke groaned.

Varric just laughed.


End file.
